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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24026227">Bidding on Your Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/erraticallyinspired/pseuds/holyfudgemonkeys'>holyfudgemonkeys (erraticallyinspired)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>PSon Fluff Bingo [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Bachelor Auction, Fluff, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, PSon Fluff Bingo, Post-Season/Series 01 Finale, Secret Relationship, spoilers for the finale!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:27:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,397</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24026227</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/erraticallyinspired/pseuds/holyfudgemonkeys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ainsley signs Malcolm up for a bachelor charity auction, not realizing that he's already in a relationship.</p><p>(For the square "Bidding War" on my bingo card.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>PSon Fluff Bingo [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733158</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>97</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bidding on Your Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lately, he’s found it difficult to say no to his sister. He knows that he should set limits, that he shouldn’t agree to anything he <em>really </em>doesn’t want to do, but every single time she gives him those wide, pleading eyes, he can’t help but think back to that night at their childhood home. The sheer terror in her eyes, the way she sat there, unnaturally still, the way she broke down once she realized what happened, what she <em>did…</em></p><p>So Malcolm says yes. He lets her stay at the loft a few days. He helps her redecorate her apartment. He sits through all of their mother’s extra check-in dinners and deflects away from Ainsley’s mental state when he can.</p><p>He also agrees to accompany her to a charity auction. She neglects to tell him that he’ll be participating until the night of. </p><p>In a move so much like their mother that he has to smile, Ainsley comes blazing into his loft that afternoon with a garment bag full of a tailored tux and a fresh pair of shoes, too. “Mal, get over here and get dressed.”</p><p>“I do have clothes of my own, you know,” he says. He takes the bag from her anyway and heads to the bathroom.</p><p>“All of the bachelors are wearing matching tuxes.” She yells it, so that he can still hear.</p><p>Malcolm nearly trips over the slacks. Quickly pulling and buttoning them up, he swings the door open. “<em>Bachelors?</em> Ains —”</p><p>“I know! I know I didn’t ask. I was going to say something earlier this week, but then you were on a case, and… I’m sorry.” She winces and bites her lip, sinking into the couch. </p><p>He brushes his hair back, sighing. “Why did you sign me up for, what? A bachelor auction?” He already knows he’s going to do this. He’ll stand on a stage and be stared at, bidded on — for Ainsley. There are so many reasons why he shouldn’t, chiefly that he’s <em>already </em>in a relationship. </p><p>Not that anyone knows that yet. </p><p>It started sometime after Eve. It was something that was simmering for years, always put aside for one very good reason or another, and, finally, he and Gil hit a point where the time was right. They were both unattached. They were both in the same city indefinitely. They were both very much still interested. </p><p>Gil made a move one day, and that was that. Their dates took place at their homes, mostly. Takeout at Malcolm’s and a movie on his (new) TV, a homecooked meal and dancing to old records at Gil’s. Whatever was between them was so fragile that neither one wanted to rock the boat by telling anyone just yet. Malcolm’s family would no doubt be uncomfortable with the turn their relationship took, and the team, while Gil agreed they’d adjust, would be wrongfooted until they did. </p><p>Malcolm puts on the rest of his tux, smoothing it down and straightening it out until he looks like the old money he is. He even puts a little makeup on to hide the evidence of his lacking sleep schedule. He listens while Ainsley explains the details.</p><p>There are nine other bachelors, all of them either reporters themselves or family or friends of reporters. Every cent of the proceeds go to various food banks around the city. Malcolm just has to show up, be pretty, and go on one date with whoever wins his bid. That’s all.</p><p>Except that Malcolm doesn’t want to date anyone other than Gil. He waits until Ainsley goes to the bathroom with her own garment bag to text him what’s going on.</p><p><em>It’s OK</em>, Gil responds.</p><p>Malcolm bites his lip hard enough for it to ache. <em>You sure?</em></p><p><em>It’s just one date.</em> Then, a moment later, another text comes through. <em>Afterwards, you’re mine.</em></p><p>The hesitation practically drips off of it, the delay, and somehow that helps. <em>Always yours.</em> He mutes his phone, slipping it into his pocket.  </p><p>~</p><p>When the siblings arrive at the auction, an attendant quickly comes over to sweep Malcolm away to where the rest of the bachelors are.</p><p><em>Sorry</em>, Ainsley mouths after him. They both thought he’d have enough time for a drink, something to settle him before he was brought out to be gawked at. </p><p>He thanks the attendant and enters the room. Inside, there are seven men in tuxes talking. They all seem to know each other. Most of them are about his age or younger, but two are silver fox material. Malcolm aches to text Gil, to call him. He refrains; if he does, he knows he’ll end up leaving the auction. “Hello,” he says politely, forcing a smooth society smile on his face. “I’m Malcolm Bright, Ainsley Whitly’s brother.”</p><p>They’re polite enough in return. In the end, however, he’s still a stranger, and he spends most of the time leaning against the wall, contemplating what’s coming. He’s vain enough to recognize he’s attractive. A well tailored tux certainly helps, too. The guests at the auction won’t be bidding on him for his personality, so there’s a chance he’ll bring in a fairly large sum for the food banks. Plus, as Ainsley admitted on the ride over, their mother plans to double the amount with a donation of her own the next day. </p><p>Anything to get her son to date again.</p><p>In the time he spends thinking, the remaining two bachelors arrive. Another ten minutes pass until a different attendant fetches all of them. They’re brought out to a stage, just like Malcolm expected, and guided to stand a few feet apart each. The tables on the floor are full of guests. Ainsley gives him a short wave from a few tables back. He vaguely recognizes the woman next to her as her boss. </p><p>As bachelor number four, he has quite a while to wait until his turn is up. He tunes out most of the bidding, though he keeps an ear out for the winning bids to get an idea of how much someone will be dropping on him. It’s not <em>much</em>. Or, at least, it’s not much compared to the checks their mother has dropped on charities in the past. He makes a mental note to write a check himself.</p><p>Finally, Malcolm is up. The host gives the crowd a brief summary of who he is before opening up the floor for bids. </p><p>It starts with a hundred. A hundred and fifty. Two hundred. It climbs as three people outbid each other one after the other. Once he hits three thousand, two of them become more hesitant to up their bids.</p><p>Malcolm eyes the woman still going strong. She’s older, though perhaps not as old as his mother, and she looks sharp, very no nonsense. He could make it through a date with her. Maybe he’ll book them seats at one of his mother’s favorite places and pull out all the lessons he learned as a child about high society.</p><p>(He’d really rather sit on Gil’s counter and watch him cook.)</p><p>She bids three thousand five hundred. Neither of the other two bidders hold up their paddles. </p><p>But the host doesn’t give her the win.</p><p>“Four thousand,” Gil says from the back of the room. He’s wearing his dress uniform, probably the closest thing he has to a suit in his closet. He meets Malcolm’s eyes and smiles. </p><p>Malcolm has no idea where he got the money, but that’s something to talk about later. He grins in relief.</p><p>The woman bids again, this time four thousand two hundred.</p><p>Gil raises his paddle again. Four thousand five hundred.</p><p>She does, too. Four thousand seven hundred.</p><p>With a grimace, Gil bids five thousand five hundred. </p><p>Malcolm catches sight of Ainsley looking between them, poleaxed in her seat. It’s not how he wanted to tell her, but he supposes it could have been worse.</p><p>The woman concedes. The host announces that the man in the dress blues wins the bid, indicating for Malcolm to walk off the stage.</p><p>He practically skips to where Gil is waiting for him, smiling smugly. “Hey. Fancy meeting you here.”</p><p>“Hey,” Gil says back. He reaches out and entwines their fingers before gently pulling him off to the side. “Sorry I’m late, kid.”</p><p>Malcolm puts a hand on his chin and kisses him, soft and sweet. “You were just on time.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Once again, thanks to KateSamantha for making me my bingo card &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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